


Pumping The Pumpkin Full (Of Love)

by PastelBlueDahlia



Series: Food Porn™ [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Fluff, Food Kink, Food Porn, Frustrated Viktor, Intercrural Sex, Jetlagged Yuuri, M/M, Pumpkin carving, Whipped Cream, a bit angsty, pumpkin fucking, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12662055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelBlueDahlia/pseuds/PastelBlueDahlia
Summary: Maybe you would think that the first thing you do when you meet your fiance for the first time in a week would be that one of the two would dress up in a tight fitted suit and underneath that kinky underwear. Then of course rose petals that lead all the way from the apartment door to the bedroom, where you lie, a rose in your mouth as you wear The Smirk you practiced for the last few days on every reflecting surface, the numerous candles dipping the room into just the right amount of light to give that Titanic drawing scene vibe, but without the following drama of course.However, this is not the reality.- - - - -The fic where Viktor is so frustrated he fucks a pumpkin





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BoredMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredMoose/gifts).



> Wow, I'm only a week late with a halloween fic
> 
> I'll gift this to BoredMoose, because you are my biggest inspiration and you are the most adorable and encouraging person I know, and I love you so fucking much. And also, it's your fault that I write food porn now so

 

 

 

Viktor is having the _best_ day of his life.  
  
The sheer white curtains float in the morning breeze, the soft murmur of passing cars in front of the open window, the air cool on Viktor‘s naked skin as the sun shines through the large panorama windows in soft beams that make the dust particles dance just like the dog hair, and his legs are intertwined with the light and love of his life, Katsuki Yuuri.  
  
Viktor stares at his beloved fiances face, his smile so wide he squishes his cheek into the pillow. Thank god Yuuri isn‘t up yet. A love crazed Russian who stares at him in his sleep is probably not what Yuuri wants to see first thing in the morning.  
  
Yuuri has imprints of his pillow case  criss-crossed all over his plump cheek. He has blue bags under his eyes and greasy, messy hair and Viktor _loves_ him.  
  
Maybe you would think that the first thing you do when you meet your ~~husband~~ fiance for the first time in a week would be that one of the two would dress up in a tight fitted suit and underneath that kinky underwear just to reveal under a lacy bra tassels. Then of course rose petals that lead all the way from the apartment door to the bedroom, where you lie, a rose in your mouth as you wear The Smirk you practiced for the last few days on every reflecting surface, the numerous candles dipping the room into just the right amount of light to give that Titanic drawing scene vibe, but without the following drama of course.  
  
However, this is not the reality.  
  
For one, Viktor didn‘t do the rose petals leading from the apartment door to the bedroom thing. No, he already laid them in the staircase as he frantically tried to explain to his half blind neighbor what an incredible romantic gesture this was and that no, the rose petals were in fact not drops of blood and that their apartment was no crime scene. It was very hard to make him believe that, especially because Yuuri was gone for a week.  
  
But well, Viktor didn‘t end up with a dick up his ass, or at least his dick buried in Yuuri‘s. No, Viktor‘s day ended with an unnecessarily bleached asshole, a cut on his lip from accidentally biting a thorn from the stem of a rose, and an exhausted Katsuki Yuuri falling into his arms, asleep as soon as Viktor wrapped his needy arms around him.  
  
And even though he was kind of upset that all the preparations were for nothing, it still was an amazing feeling to finally have Yuuri in his arms again. So he wiped the piles of rose petals from their bed and let them drop to the floor, then he undressed Yuuri and himself before they slipped under the covers. (Viktor made sure to hide the tassels deep in the closet, so Yuuri wouldn‘t accidentally find them and ruin the surprise)  
  
Viktor almost squeals but in the sheer awe of Yuuri‘s presence, of the fact that they‘ll talk and kiss amongst other stuff, makes him gasp and the combination of the two sounds ends in a really weird hiccup. Yuuri stirs and makes a sleepy, grumpy noise in the back of his throat, his eyes scrunching and his face crinkling.  
  
This must be love. Yuuri probably instinctively knew that his fiance Viktor- or no, _his_ _Viktor_ is awake and demands ~~attention~~ love. (Or maybe he woke up because Viktor angled the glint of his  goldring right into Yuuri‘s eye, but this is an unimportant detail)  
  
„What time is it?“ Yuuri rasps and scrunches his eyes even more, dragging his hand lazily through his hair and making a disgusted when he feels how greasy they are. Viktor can only silently stare in awe. His heart is too full suddenly, and he feels tears pinprick in his eyes, and maybe _this_ is what you do when you‘ve been separated from your fiance and better half for a week.  
  
Maybe things simply get too much like that.  
  
Yuuri makes an annoyed sound, snuggling into the sheets and wrapping himself even further into the warmth until Viktor can only see a mop of black hair and furrowed brows.  
  
„Oh!“ Viktor gets up frantically to close the curtains, „I should have known that you still want to sleep!“ he exclaims, the whir of the curtains loud as he shuts the outside world out and closes the windows.  
  
„It‘s fine,“ Yuuri murmurs. Viktor steps into the piles of rose petals shattered on the floor on his way back to the bed, the red petals sticking to his pale feet. He sits on the bed and wonders if he should Instagram this. But on the other hand he has this thing going on where each and every of his pictures has at least something from Yuuri in it too, and a tiny part of him is reluctant to give this up. It‘s definitely not because he‘s competing with Phichit about who has more Yuuri in their pictures, of course not, Viktor is not such a petty adult.  
  
He strokes Yuuri‘s hair out of his face and nearly gets a heart seizure as Yuuri trembles and shakes, almost like a cat stretching. Yuuri blinks slowly. „Put on some pants.“ He says. Viktor grins and kisses Yuuri‘s furrowed brows.

 

 

 

Viktor is having the best day of his life.  
  
Yesterday it didn‘t really work out with fucki\- _spending time_ with Yuuri, but today will be different. He‘ll eat breakfast with Yuuri, watch a movie with Yuuri, take a bath with Yuuri, make love with Yuuri, go out to eat with Yuuri, prepare for Halloween with Yuuri.  
  
He lets the towel drop from his hips and then bends down to search for his bath bomb. Viktor is someone who needs to get In The Mood. And he really needs all these autumn vibes as he searches for his pumpkin bath bomb, only to realize that somehow, it‘s not there. Or any bath bombs for that matter. And suddenly he‘s reminded of that one time before Yuuri  left and they got drunk and used all of them at once as they took a bath together, nearly drowning two times and flooding the whole bathroom floor with amazing smelling, colorful foam.  
  
So Viktor puts some bath salt into the hot water and lets himself slowly sink into the tub, sitting there for what feels like an eternity because every second spend here in the bathroom means that he gets to spend one second less with Yuuri, the love of his life, _the most gorgeous-_  
  
(Believe me, this thought process doesn't stop for a long time)  
  
When he gets out he  blow dries his hair, making sure to style them with that extra swoop in his fringe and then he puts on some cologne, the one Yuuri once told him would smell so unbelievable good that he wanted to get impregnated right there, on the kitchen table. It‘s definitely one of Viktor‘s fondest memories, even when it was only for the way Yuuri blushed to the tips of his ears and avoided looking Viktor in the eye as they ate breakfast right where Yuuri yelled unbelievable filthy things.  
  
And just when he wants to use his anti aging creme (the one he hides very, very deep in the drawer from Yuuri) he realizes that it's empty.  
  
He has to suppress a little gasp.  
  
But then the memories are flooding back: lonely nights spent on the couch with Makka, tearful phone calls, so much ice cream, and the very dumb, drunken idea to put anti aging cream on his freshly bleached asshole.  
  
Somehow, it reminded Viktor of the time a rude interviewer said he should stop being so pretentious and just say his costume was red instead of blood orange. The burn hurt equally bad.

 

 

 

Viktor is still having the best day of his life.  
  
He gets to cuddle with Yuuri and hug him and pamper him just like he deserves, and they will eat breakf-  
  
A picture: Katsuki Yuuri, sitting on the kitchen table while eating the blini Viktor made yesterday, sunlight bright and Yuuri pale, _eating, eating, eating._  
  
_This is fine_ , Viktor immediately thinks.  
  
And he watches as Yuuri bites into the filled blini, eyes widened and then scrunching at his phone. And it‘s selfish to think that way. And wrong. It‘s definitely not what a fiance should think, someone who will devote his whole life to Yuuri, and it‘s definitely not something he should think about but he does, because Yuuri eats without patience, without recognizing the taste. He just shoves whatever is in front of him in his mouth.  
  
Viktor feels terrible.  
  
But it‘s still the best day of his life.  
  
So he smiles and kisses Yuuri‘s cheek, careful not to put on a fake smile. Instead, he just- tones down his happy expression. Yeah. That sounds good and healthy and true.  
  
It‘s okay to not always wake up with a wide grin in his face.  
  
So Viktor sits down at the kitchen table with Yuuri, smiling as he bites into the katsudon blini and realizing that it actually doesn't taste half as good as he expected it to be. They eat in silence, Yuuri‘s eyes slipping shut from time to time as he eats and reads something at the same time, probably emails from sponsors. Viktor‘s heart aches with a strange wistfulness without knowing where it's coming from.  
  
When he puts the dishes in the sink he presses a kiss to Yuuri‘s temple as he walks past him. Viktor grins and bites his lip as he remembers what he bought and walks back into their bedroom.  
  
„Yuuuuuri...“ he drawls as he leans against the door frame, his hand in his hip.  
  
Yuuri gasps and breathes in his tea, causing a loud coughing fit.  
  
„What- are you wearing?“ he manages to get out, hand on his mouth and face red.  
  
„I thought we could wear matching sweaters!“ Viktor beams, clutching the soft fabric of Yuuri‘s sweater behind his back.  
  
„This is literally the ugliest thing I‘ve ever seen,“ Yuuri says, and for the first time since he came home he even laughs, „Shouldn‘t ugly sweaters be reserved for Christmas?“  
  
„I couldn‘t wait, I never wore partner look with anyone.“ Before you, he wants to add, his smile widening when he thinks about the stammi vicino costumes.  
  
„Actually, the stammi vicino costumes were already partner look,“ Yuuri says, casually as if it‘s nothing. Viktor full-blown smiles at him.  
  
„Plus, it‘s not a sweater,“ he says and lifts the edge of the bright orange fabric, „it‘s a vest.“  
  
„That- somehow makes it worse.“ Yuuri snorts as he stands up. He wraps an arm around Viktor‘s waist and pulls him close, his body still warm from the bed. „I love you, but can we do this tomorrow? I‘m still jetlagged and I feel like I could sleep forever.“  
  
He then presses a kiss to Viktor‘s temple and walks past him to get into the bedroom.  
  
Viktor clutches the vest he bought for Yuuri in his hand and runs a thumb over a widely grinning pumpkin.  
  
„But you promised...“

 

 

 

Viktor is still having the best day of his life.  
  
Why should Yuuri remember something they talked about weeks ago and only joked about? He really has no reason to be upset about it, it‘s okay that Yuuri doesn‘t remember it. And Yuuri also didn‘t say that he would never wear it, he just said later. _It‘s alright._  
  
That‘s what he tells himself in an endless loop as he dresses Makkachin up in Yuuri‘s vest and takes pictures of her on the couch, of her beside a spooky skeleton decoration, her in front of a big panorama window, looking out into the blurred yellow and red and orange outside, a cup of hot chocolate steaming right next to her. Viktor knows she would never be able to drink it and tries to take the picture quickly before she gets any ideas. In the end it‘s all about aesthetics, not reality.  
  
And then he takes some selfies with Makkachin, thinking of tagging it with # partnerlookwithbae, but that would be too petty for something that is actually not a problem and he isn‘t mad about.  
  
After two hours Makkachin has enough and rolls around to get the vest off of her. As Viktor tries to pull it over her head she suddenly decides to play a tug of war. Viktor yelps while Makkachin only growls playfully.  
  
He sighs as he takes the damage in. The grinning pumpkin is unraveled, the threads looser, and Viktor‘s heart in shreds.  
  
„Makka, why did you do this...“ he sighs. It comes out more sad than intended, because he isn‘t sad. Makkachin puts her paw on Viktor‘s knee and whines, her big dark eyes looking at him apologetically. Viktor manages to laugh wetly and pat her head.  
  
Somehow, the day isn‘t as nearly as fun as he had imagined it. Yuuri is completely jetlagged, he doesn‘t want to wear his pretty Halloween vest, and Viktor doesn‘t feel as wrapped up in love how he‘s so used to.  
  
And Viktor knows just how spoiled he sounds, how clingy and childish even though nothing happened, and really, he‘s disappointed with himself. Yuuri should have enough room to breathe and relax. Just because being together with Yuuri is the most relaxing thing for Viktor it doesn‘t mean that Yuuri has to feel the same as him, especially because Viktor knows how he likes to be left alone at times and sort his thoughts.  
  
He tries to remember what he did Before Yuuri to cheer up, and a few things come to mind.  
  
A grin spreads across his face.  
  
He grabs his keys and coat and leaves the apartment.

 

 

 

Viktor is having a good day.  
  
The autumn air is crisps and quickly numbs Viktor‘s face, the cars are loud, the Burberry coat he wears immediately makes him feel more put together and calm, and the Starbucks is just like always the blissful oasis of burned out single moms and stressed college kids.  
  
When he opens the door he‘s already greeted by the amazing smell of coffee, and he smiles automatically. Whenever he comes to Starbucks alone, and especially when he feels down he‘s immediately reminded of Holly Golighty and her habit to vanish in the wondrous glittering and shimmering world of Tiffany where brilliants and diamonds are sitting right next to each other. Except here they got replaced with churning coffee machines and delicious cakes.  
  
He walks up to the register, smiling brightly as he takes in the new barista. Her eyes are wide for a second, as if she recognizes Viktor but he‘s sure that he knows everyone by name now.  
  
„Hi!“ he greets her. Her eyes widen alarmed before her expression goes blank, her face bloodless in a way it's only from people who stay up too late and are barely alive half of the time. „One pumpkin spice latte please.“ For good measure he pulls out an almost genuine smile.  
  
„Ummm...“ she says, her eyes shifty, nervous. „We‘re out.“  
  
„Oh.“  
  
Another disappointment. But it‘s _fine._  
  
„Then, could I-“  
  
„No.“  
  
The girl grows increasingly desperate and her face takes on a pained expression that makes her look way older that she probably is.  
  
„We‘re- We‘re out of everything.“  
  
Viktor furrows his brows. He looks around, seeing the happy couples taking cute pictures of their coffee for Instagram and tired business man that slowly come to live again as they sip on their coffee. He looks back at her and raises a perfect eyebrow in a way Phichit would definitely call _savage._  
  
„I know how this looks like,“ she says, hands risen almost protectively. „But we can‘t give you, uh, coffee?“  
  
Somehow the way she phrases it like a question really annoys him. And he's never annoyed. „Why?“ Viktor asks, clenching his jaw hard until he can feel the crunch of his teeth.  
  
_For the plot!_ She wants to scream. She is silent, her inner void swallowing the words up as she transcends this plane of existence and enters the shadow realm where she doesn‘t have to look at the face of the gorgeous man in front of her and can suffer quietly, alone, chanting _I‘m so sorry_ for all eternity.  
  
Viktor keeps snapping his fingers in front of her as her eyes become completely blank. He furrows his brows and clutches his gloves as he storms out of the shop, cold air biting his face and lips.  
  
He‘s _furious._  
  
Pumpkin spice latte is the embodiment of coziness and happiness. Taking that from him, or even withholding the access to it is a clear violation against basic human rights and the pursuit of happiness. He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes as he remembers that this is listened in the American constitution.  
  
Just why isn‘t there a single thing that goes right?  
  
He has his hands deep in his pockets as his eyes suddenly catch a sign. The bright orange pumpkin magically pulls him in like a month to a flame.  
  
He breathes out a shaky breath and tries to calm down. This is it.  
  
This is alright. Good even. _Perfect_ even. He will buy some pumpkins, and when Yuuri wakes up they‘ll carve them and laugh and be cute and Instagram  it and he will feel better and he will laugh at how angry and frustrated he was before. And he will say, very casually as he carves Makkachin‘s face into the beautiful orange skin of the pumpkin, _Oh Yuuri, I had such a bad day but this really makes up for it!_  
  
And then Yuuri will ask, _Oh Viktor my love, why, what happened?_ And he will get this adorable frown and stop Viktor‘s hand as he stabs a little harshly into the pumpkin, and Viktor will look him in the eyes and his heart will race because someone getting his hints will never stop being scary, and when he‘ll look at Yuuri‘s worried face he will feel better, and worse, but eventually better. And then Yuuri will hug him and Viktor‘s piled up anger and loneliness will just spill out of his eyes but it will be alright because he‘ll cry in Yuuri‘s arms and into his ugly, unraveled pumpkin vest.  
  
He searches for the perfect pumpkins only to realize that in fact, there are no pumpkins. But this is fine, _of course_ they have pumpkins, they _must_ have some pumpkins. Just before Viktor starts to fully despair he stops in his tracks, spotting the two most beautiful pumpkins on the planet. He balls his hands and breathes out. Right when he stretches his hand out to pick them up he feels a hand on his.  
  
This actually would be romantic.  If it were Yuuri.  
  
He looks up to the owner of the hand, just to stare into the wrinkly face of a grandma who looks at him like he just offended her entire ancestry.  
  
Viktor Nikiforov doesn‘t get angry. He just doesn‘t have much anger in him, and well, maybe years and years of being exposed to the public taught him to freeze the smile on his face in place whenever someone was annoying or rude.  
  
But _this._  
  
This old lady cracks Viktor Nikiforov, the living legend, open like she came prepared. And even though she‘s small, her face and hands are wrinkly she has this youthful sparkle in her eyes that doesn‘t fit to her spiteful words and the rest of her face.  
  
It somehow reminds him of Lilia.  
  
But where Lilia keeps grace and steel like determination this old lady is just- well. A bitch.  
  
Finally, after what feels like hours he could convince her to give him the two pumpkins. With an exhausted huff, conflicted feelings, two pumpkins and 8258 rubles lighter, he heads home.  
  
(Oh, this bitch knew exactly who he was)

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading ♥♥♥
> 
> I'm kind of sorry that here didn't really happen any fucking, but this will change with the next chapter
> 
> My tumblr is www.its-peach-bleach.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOREDMOOSE I LOVE YOU AND I HOPE YOU'LL ENJOY THIS

 

 

 

Viktor is having a bad day.  
  
Not even the smallest thing worked out how he planned it, and when he carries the two heavy pumpkins clamped under his arms up the stairs he feels hot red rage bubble in his stomach.  
  
Viktor is a perfectionist. Things have to be planned and analyzed and thought through. Except for the times he feels his life tilting, a coin thrown in the air and still unsure which way to fall. On this breaking point he never truly knows or understands what will change, but this right here feels like it again, like the time over a year ago.  
  
It feels like he has to take the next flight to Japan to be able to breathe.  
  
Viktor practically jams his key in the keyhole, cursing under his breath as he kicks the door open with his foot. He doesn‘t even bother to take off his shoes, instead he drops the heavy pumpkins on the kitchen table. Then he goes back to the front door, ripping open his too thick, too heavy coat, closes the door and kicks his Armani shoes of with a desperation and the big bad A word swirling in his gut that somehow reminds him of Yurio, and even of himself surprisingly, things he has long forgotten about himself from the time he still allowed himself to be angry and young.  
  
Somehow this makes it worse.  
  
He places spoons and knifes on the table with frantic hands, and the fact that he even tries to lay them symmetrical makes it worse and he furrows his brows. With a shaky breath he goes to the fridge and gets whipped cream, because he just can't calm down.  
  
Actually he wanted to keep it for the pumpkin pie they wanted to make. Together. _Fuck._  
  
Of course Yuuri wouldn‘t want that, how could he be this stupid? What is wrong with him that he still has all those glossy magazines in mind with smiling women and cute children and partners who cook and bake and wear cute aprons, who have a big house and the perfect lives, how can he still hold on to his fairy tale when he knows nobody could ever reach up to something like that, when he knows how hurtful and terrible it is to fight against prejudices and a certain personality others think, _wish_ he had. When he knows how much it hurt him when Yuuri was one of these people.  
  
Is there really not even a tiny part of him genuine and real?  
  
He sprays the sweet cream directly into his mouth, and he almost chokes on it as he coughs out a wet laugh. This is nothing he ever wanted, nothing anyone would ever think of him, and the women in the glossy magazines would be shocked and laugh at him because how could someone like him lose all control of his life like that?  
  
It‘s a small, a terrible tiny thing, but for Viktor it feels like he overstepped something he would never think about, and it makes him feel so utterly pathetic that tears well up in his throat, hot and ugly, and there's something under his skin he can‘t explain.  
  
Viktor Nikiforov doesn‘t get angry. He never needed comfort food. Viktor Nikiforov has his life under control.  
  
Except, he doesn‘t.  
  
He sits at the table, knees weak, and when he looks at the silvery knife and then at that perfect round orange pumpkin he feels something hot crawl up his veins, and because he can‘t take it he takes the knife and stabs the pumpkin right where a pretty grin should be.  
  
And _god_ , it feels like he's doing something right for once.  
  
He _stabs and stabs and stabs_ until there is a tatty hole in it, and Viktor slowly puts the knife away and blows a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. The pumpkin now has a wide, gaping mouth, and it looks almost shocked at what Viktor did.  
  
He allows himself a hysteric smile.  
  
(No one is there to see it after all)  
  
Viktor is filled with a strange, consuming sense of power and something darker, something destructive and fuzzier, and he feels this itch right under his skin to do something without knowing what. He sticks a finger into the pumpkin, feels its cold and mushy and pliant insides.  
  
He takes a shuddering breath.

Viktor Nikiforov is a perfectionist. Perfect smiles, perfect interviews, use makeup, go running, drink smoothies and make diets, do your hair, smile, hands on his hips or shoulder gripping him tighter and the button to his smile is pushed, a flirtatious comment here, an innuendo there, a tiny sprinkle of genuine emotion so he wouldn‘t seem too cold, put this on, take this off, lift weights, drink, go to parties, be Viktor Nikiforov, pretend to like everyone and everything and pretend to like it anywhere too, laugh, kiss, fuck and wake up fearing that you forgot the condom, be Viktor Nikiforov, _skate skate skate skate skate_ , talk about your costume, do your routine, train, look after Makkachin, _train skate smile fuck-_  
  
Break.  
  
Viktor didn‘t know that breaking could be this freeing.  
  
And then it doesn‘t take long for Viktor to pull down his pants and underwear and shove his cock into the mushy coldness of the pumpkin. He hisses through his teeth. He‘s not hard yet but god, he can and he _will_ even if he has to fuck this pumpkin the whole night until he finally orgasms so he can at least cross one thing of his wishlist for today.  
  
He grabs the pumpkin‘s hard flesh tighter, feels all the little unique dips on its skin, feels how full and plump it is under his hands and he tips his head back and moans, snapping his hips forward into the soft insides of the pumpkin.  
  
The tight hole has the perfect fit for his dick now that he starts to harden, and he speeds his thrusts up. _Fuck this fucking pumpkin,_ he thinks hazily. _Fuck everything._  
  
And when the door opens and he hears the surprised little gasp Yuuri makes, his jumper too baggy on him, gorgeous pale legs thick, unmarked with any kiss or bitemarks, and Viktor stops only for a second before he starts fucking the pumpkin, his substitute for Yuuri, even harder as he locks eyes with him.  
  
God does it feel good to see Yuuri like this because of him.  
  
His whole attention focused only on Viktor.  
  
The seeds of the pumpkin slide around Viktor‘s cock, smooth and cool, and it feels _amazing_. He groans and closes his eyes in pleasure.  
  
„I just-,“ he manages to say, biting his lip as he snaps his hip and buries himself further in the pumpkin, „I just wanted to have a good day,“ Viktor hisses, hands pressing the pumpkin closer.  
  
Yuuri is blushing furiously, eyes wide and soft without his glasses and his hair tousled from sleep, a hand pressed to his chest and his eyes flickering from Viktor‘s face to the pumpkin, again and again and again. His mouth twitches with unspoken words. Viktor huffs out a little breathy laugh.  
  
He thoroughly surprised Yuuri with this, just how he always wanted.  
  
Yuuri bites his lip, brows furrowed, and _oh_ Viktor knows that look. That's the I-really-want-to-fuck-right-now-please look. But somehow Viktor finds that he doesn‘t want to let him.  
  
So when Yuuri steps closer, eyes half lidded and burning with want Viktor says _no_ as sternly as possible. Yuuri stops dead in his tracks and blinks confused.  
  
„You don‘t deserve it,“ he says and smiles that little sharp smile, „You can look, but no touching.“ Viktor grins and sits down at the kitchen table, the pumpkin still on his dick as he spreads his legs further apart.  
  
„Sit.“ Viktor orders and nods to the couch. Yuuri gulps.  
  
Viktor presses his lips together and shifts the pumpkin, moaning loudly as the smooth seeds slide against his too hot skin. He‘s fully hard now, almost achingly so. It feels good to have Yuuri‘s attention finally, _finally_ focused on him for the first time today. He knows that thinking like this is bad and selfish, but he can‘t help but be happy when he sees Yuuri leaning against the back of the couch, fidgeting and licking his lips, looking wrecked before Viktor has even done anything to him.  
  
„ _Mm, Yuuri!_ “ he moans and watches with delight as Yuuri closes his eyes and breathes out heavily.  
  
Viktor knows just how sweet of a torture this must be because Yuuri really likes to do this to him. He isn't used to waiting, because Yuuri waited all his life for Viktor and maybe the year of hopeless pining was some sort of cosmic payback for that. Viktor loves Yuuri, loves to be possessed and possess, so he can never withhold himself from Yuuri for too long. Now it‘s different, and he can‘t even explain why.  
  
Viktor fucks harder into the pumpkin and when was the last time he was this hard? The tightness of the hole reminds him of the times he fucks Yuuri, and when he locks eyes with him it almost looks like Yuuri had the same thought.  
  
The pleasure that ripples through him is even sweeter like this, knowing just how much Yuuri wants him and he can‘t help but smirk as his toes curl.  
  
„Pull your shirt up,“ Viktor gasps, already so close. Yuuri lifts it hesitantly, showing the wet spot of his boxers and that sight alone is enough to push Viktor over the edge, and he comes into the mushy insides of the pumpkin so hard he feels it in his bones.  
  
He lies on the table, the filled pumpkin sitting next to him.  
  
„Viktor,“ Yuuri says as he steps closer, cheeks feverishly red, „What was all that about?“  
  
Viktor breaths out heavily and looks at the ceiling. „This day sucks,“ he answers, „I wanted to eat breakfast together and you would compliment my katsudon blini and-“ he cuts himself off as he feels a tentative hand on his upper arm, soothing and calming, but this isn‘t what Viktor wants, strangely, and he has to suppress the urge to shake the hand he loves off him like an annoying bug.  
  
„Yuuri,“ he says slowly and locks eyes with him, „Fuck me.“  
  
„What?“ Yuuri asks incredulous. Viktor bites his lip.  
  
„This is what I wanted the whole time. And I need this right now.“ He hears himself say. His ears feel like they‘re under water. He turns over, his fists pressing against his chest and the kitchen table is cold on his stomach as he presents himself, needy and cheap.  
  
„Fuck my thighs.“ He says, and it feels like there are waves crashing in his ears.  
  
Viktor stares at the wooden pattern of the table as he feels a hot hand trailing down slowly, absentmindedly like Yuuri is in thought. It makes Viktor shiver all the way up to his shoulders.  
  
„Do you really want this?“ he then asks quietly, and Viktor says _yes_ because he does and he needs something. Needs his love or attention or his cock because he‘s so damn frustrated.  
  
Viktor always had to fix himself, but this feels like a sickness that claws on his ribs from the insides, and he can‘t do anything about it.

Then something hard settles in Yuuri‘s face, his features rigid as he touches Viktor with that damn quietness, almost detached which is completely the opposite Viktor wants and needs right now, and he pinches and rubs and tastes like Viktor is just someone to fill his needs and desires.  
  
Viktor knows about the things that happened in Detroit‘s beds, what happened after Yuuri got home from a party, and even though Yuuri blushed and hid his face when he told Viktor, he can see exactly how Yuuri was capable of doing all these things, understands how needy he suddenly was as he actually could live out his desires without his parents chattering downstairs. And now it seems like Yuuri went back to that, to fucking hard and then letting go, and maybe it should feel bad but it doesn‘t, and Viktor can‘t tell if it‘s because he somewhere wants this too or if it‘s because he loves to _give and give and give_ Yuuri everything he needs without expecting anything in return.  
  
A thing he only realizes now: The fact that he can give himself to Yuuri so fully, give him just what he wants is the greatest, yet loneliest happiness.  
  
Viktor gasps as he feels something cold touching him, and when he turns his head he sees Yuuri spreading whipped cream between his thighs. He smiles at Viktor then, in his unique, quiet yet groundbreaking way, and Viktor feels that burst of warmth in his heart and belly again that feels so misplaced now.  
  
Yuuri swipes his thumb over Viktor‘s hole, slowly and torturous as if he‘s savoring the trembling of Viktor's legs and back. Viktor presses his cheek against the cool table and bites his bottom lip to stay quiet, and then there are Yuuri‘s fingertips splayed on his ass cheek, hot sunspots on his skin that hold him together, and Viktor waits and waits and waits for Yuuri to do _something_ , to push inside him, to turn him around and fuck into his mouth, to-  
  
Yuuri presses down on Viktor‘s shoulder like he‘s bracing himself. He can‘t get hard just yet, but he's breathless and all he can think about is how long he wanted this, how long he ached for Yuuri‘s hand on him and he wonders why he still doesn‘t feel at ease. Yuuri shifts, and then there‘s the rustling of clothes. Viktor‘s heartbeat pounds loud and heavy against the wood.  
  
The whipped cream is slowly running down his thighs, almost ticklish, and Viktor only wants to know what Yuuri thinks of him now, bend over aching and trembling like this, looking like he‘s already been stuffed full and with come leaking down his legs.  
  
He whimpers.  
  
Yuuri runs his thumb over the prominent bones of Viktor‘s neck, and then there‘s heat as he presses his chest to Viktor‘s back, hot and consuming and claustrophobic and _finally_ , and his breath catches in his throat from smothering want, and then Yuuri murmurs „Keep your thighs together.“  
  
Viktor feels the wet squelch of whipped cream between his thighs as Yuuri presses into the tight gap, grazing Viktor‘s balls and perineum in a way that makes him scratch his nails on the table. Yuuri groans wetly in his ear and grabs his hips so hard that it makes a hot chord pull in Viktor‘s stomach. It feels so good that it almost makes him nauseous.  
  
And Viktor wants Yuuri to pull the ugly, honest, genuine Viktor out of him like this, wants to show and give it all to him, because Yuuri deserves to know.  
  
Yuuri slams into the heat again and again, and the slick feeling and the hardness against the soft flesh of his thighs, the pressure of Yuuri's hard cock against his balls and perineum shouldn‘t feel this good, shouldn‘t feel this overwhelming, but Viktor finds himself harden again with his cheek pressed to the table, feels the way his skin scrapes uncomfortably when Yuuri thrusts hard and rides Viktor up on the table.  
  
„God Viktor, you‘re so-“ Viktor cuts him off as he locks his legs and tenses his muscles until they begin to tremble, Yuuri gasping into the spot he likes to kiss on his shoulder.  
  
Viktor feels like he will cry any second, and it‘s frustrating because he just doesn‘t know why. His mind is empty and yet overwhelmed, nothing is tangible in any way. The feelings are just there, loud and heavy in his chest, dark and suffocating.  
  
Viktor feels filthy in a way that doesn't involve sex. Utterly disconnected from everything that isn‘t Yuuri, and if he wouldn‘t have him right now then he would fall apart.  
  
And then wonderful, gorgeous, soft Yuuri connects the dots with his bony hands, pulls Viktor together like silk as he moves up his thighs and ass and back just to wrap his hand around Viktor‘s cock. He gasps, panting hard as a tiny condensed spot appears on the table.  
  
Viktor‘s whole body feels like an open nerve, and the sensations layer and layer on top of each other until Viktor feels like he‘ll drown. His fingernails scramble helplessly into the smooth wooden surface, his hot cheek against the coolness, hands pulling closer and stinging just the right way, the relentless thrusts, his legs so smooth and slick it‘s easy to imagine it being come, and _Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri._  
  
The orgasm is building up slowly and hotly under his skin until he bursts.  
  
Yuuri hold him as he comes, lets him shiver and breathe before he starts moving again, and the overstimulation is a strain on his nerves but it‘s for Yuuri, and then he comes too right between Viktor‘s thighs and adds to that white mess, and Viktor can _breathe._  
  
His legs tremble uncontrollably, and all he can do is to put his whole weight on the table. He turns around and lies on his back, and in the dim blue light that falls through the windows Viktor can see Yuuri‘s blush and how his chest rises and falls. For a second, Yuuri feels like a stranger.  
  
He feels disgusting, and when he runs a hand through his hair he feels the dampness at its roots. He breathes out and looks at the ceiling. His heart is thrumming loud in his chest, and he feels wet and sticky between his thighs which was only seconds ago unbearably hot and which is now almost nauseating. But his mind is calm. The buzzing is gone.  
  
„Viktor.“  
  
Yuuri looks down at him with furrowed brows. There is this tension is his jaw Viktor hates, because it always means something bad is about to happen.  
  
„What‘s wrong?“  
  
Viktor smiles. Yuuri is worth the effort, Yuuri is so important he shouldn‘t worry about anything, he already has so much on his plate, he-  
  
„Nothing.“ He answers. And this simple word he said millions of times sounds scratchy and stuck in his throat, and it deepens the crease in Yuuri‘s forehead, and _fuck._  
  
_This is tiring._  
  
„Viktor,“ he says again, and Viktor smiles and closes his eyes because he‘s in pain and he never learned how to handle this.  
  
And then Yuuri‘s hands are on him, firmly sitting his sluggish body up. Viktor‘s head falls silently and heavy on Yuuri‘s naked shoulder. He wraps his arms around Viktor, holds him tight in this embrace when Viktor can‘t.  
  
„I love you. I love you, you hear me? It doesn‘t matter if you don‘t tell me why you‘re upset, I‘ll stay by your side. I love you so much.“  
  
Yuuri‘s words are hushed and warm and quiet, and they make Viktor's heart stutter like an old engine. He sobs quietly and finally wraps his arms around Yuuri.  
  
„This was such a shitty day,“ he cries into Yuuri‘s shoulder. „I wanted to do something romantic for you, and I missed you so, _so_ much Yuuri you have no idea, and you fell asleep and I- I was okay with that, really.“  
  
Yuuri hums softly into his ear.  
  
„And I- you- you didn‘t even realize that I made you blini, you just- you just sat down and ate, and then I felt so stupid for having bought those vests because it was only joke between us, and-“ He stops himself, throat burning and red face with shame. When he realizes he dug his nails into Yuuri‘s skin he tries to relax. Tries to let go.  
  
„What else?“ Yuuri softly mutters into Viktor‘s ear. It‘s unfair to Yuuri, he knows this, but he can‘t stop the relief that washes over him when he hears the tone of his voice, feels the way Yuuri doesn‘t stop for a second in petting his hair. He‘s not judgmental, not disappointed, and Viktor is terrified and breaking but maybe breaking in Yuuri‘s arms is the best thing that could happen to him now.  
  
Viktor tries to take a deep breath. „The thing that should cheer me up didn‘t work out, and buying these pumpkins was so damn stressful and I spent so much on them because- I don‘t know, maybe I just wanted to prove myself that I could do at least one thing right and- this is so stupid.“  
  
„It‘s not stupid,“ Yuuri replies, „If it upset you, then it‘s not stupid.“  
  
Viktor holds him tighter and nods.  
  
„It‘s just- so annoying how much this all affects me. I had all these amazing things planned out in detail, and then nothing worked out even though I tried to not let it get to me. I don‘t know, I was trying so hard to make everything right and to have fun, but this all kept building up and now it‘s this mess and-“ Viktor hides his mouth into Yuuri‘s collarbone.  
  
Muffled he says: „And this sucks.“  
  
„I know,“ Yuuri says as he runs his fingers gently through Viktor‘s hair, tilting his jaw against the top of his head. „I‘m so sorry, I should have listened to you more. I missed you too, but when I finally got home I was like 'oh Viktor is here, now I can relax' which I did without considering how you felt. I‘m sorry Viktor.“  
  
He presses a trembling smile into Yuuri‘s damp skin. Viktor still has to get used to words that are meant to heal him, to ease his pain. He wonders how he could live without this, without Yuuri‘s arms around him and his warm breath in his ear for the past 20 years.   
  
The hole in Viktor‘s chest is healing. Slowly, but gradually, and the years won‘t make him brand new and untainted, and things will leave their scars on him because that's what living is in the end, but for some reason Yuuri is there and he doesn't look like he ever wants to leave. And this is exactly the thought he needed to have all the time, and the tension slowly leaves his body.  
  
„Say you love me.“  
  
Yuuri doesn‘t laugh. He doesn‘t pause. He holds Viktor tighter, his hand protectively on the back of Viktor‘s head as he says with complete sincereness: „I love you Viktor. I love you _so much,_ “ and he says it as if these words hurt him, as if he needs to say them again and again. As if Yuuri is already missing Viktor even though he isn‘t gone yet.  
  
And when Yuuri kisses him his lips are so rough and hot that Viktor feels stabbed in the chest. He carries Viktor into the bathroom, draws a bath and wets a towel and goes down on his knees to wipe away the whipped cream and the come. The tips of his ears are so red that it makes Viktor laugh, and it‘s loud in their bathroom.  
  
They get into the tub together and the water rises and rises and rises and Viktor watches with an odd fascination how it claims his body.  
  
Suddenly Yuuri laughs and gets up, dripping wet all the way to their bedroom as he pulls a lush bag out of his suitcase, his smile bright. „Because we used up all the other ones,“ he explains like he even needs explanation, and Viktor feels his lips wobble before he starts to laugh. They know it‘s wasteful, but on days like these it‘s probably okay. They put a handful of the bath bombs into the water, excitingly pointing out to each other the smell or how the colors change over time. For some time, the soft fizzle of the bath bombs is the only sound in the bathroom.  
  
„God,“ Viktor says, blue eyes wide with shock, „I- I actually fucked a pumpkin.“  
  
Yuuri stares at him for a second before he laughs.  
  
„Oh god...“ Viktor groans as he covers his face.  
  
„And?“ Yuuri asks smirking, „What was their name?“  
  
„Angelica.“ Viktor says without thinking, and Yuuri‘s eyes widen in surprise.  
  
„Angelica wasn‘t very angelic in the way she seduced my fiance,“ he says and blows a handful of bubbles in Viktor‘s direction.  
  
„Please don‘t be jealous of a pumpkin. I mean, I know it‘s hard because she got all these curves but-“  
  
„That‘s it. I‘ll make a pie out of her.“  
  
Viktor kisses the laughter right off of Yuuri‘s lips then. They sit like this until the sun goes down and the water turns cold, because in the dark of their shared bath they can see each other still, can see right through the facade and see the cracks that are part of them, and they _love._  
  
Viktor had a bad day.  
  
But in the end, he's fine.  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I bet this feels trip wasn't what you expected, but I also didn't expect it so? I hope you could still enjoy this ❤❤❤
> 
> My tumblr is https://its-peach-bleach.tumblr.com/


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